Eyes from every pair on canvas lining the walls seemed to follow Jaime as he made his way for his sister’s bedchamber. His father may have been proud of him for the first time since he had joined the Kingsguard, but all the lords of Lannister past whose portraits hung in the hall appeared to eye him with scrutiny.
Never, in all his life, had Jaime felt so uncertain. He had never expected to marry, no, but he loved Brienne, that he knew as well as he knew his own being. And he was just as certain that he wouldn’t allow their child to be a bastard.
He would marry Brienne, and return to his rightful home of Casterly Rock.
The hardest part would be telling Cersei.
As he approached the heavy ironwood doors to her chambers, his heart beat like a drum against the back of his ribcage. He didn’t want to think of the possibilities, of how she would react--he knew her well enough, had known her since the bloody womb. She had been the love of his life for so very long, and he couldn’t deny that he still loved her, very deeply, but he loved Brienne, too. He couldn’t dishonour her and their child by casting them aside. He had already do so much for the sake of his sister.
With a single, solemn nod to the guards posted outside her bedchamber, he carefully pushed open the doors and stepped inside, letting them slowly fall shut behind him. Cersei sat near the open windows in a gown as green as her eyes. Her back was to him, hair set in intricate braids atop her head with two plaits that rested on either side of her breasts, and between her fingers a goblet of Dornish sour rested delicately.
‘Brienne of Tarth,’ she said, and the words stiffened on her tongue like a curse. A moment passed, and she chuckled, a hard, harsh sound that barely touched her lips. ‘...I should have known. She’s been in love with you for a long time. You can see it in her eyes.’
Jaime watched, suddenly feeling somewhat helpless, as Cersei took a sip of wine. Still, she kept her back to him, and for that he was marginally grateful; seeing the look on her face would have been too hard to bear.
She spoke before he had a chance to reply. ‘Father must be very proud. He has the...son he’s always wanted, the Lord of Casterly Rock. A son who can give him heirs.’ She turned her head slightly, but still she didn’t look at him, only to cast her voice over her shoulder. ‘...She’s with child, isn’t she.’
Jaime opened his mouth to speak, but still, his twin spoke first. ‘Why else would you marry her? And so suddenly, too. I’m sure Father will ignore that little fact just like he ignores every other problem with his children, as long as he gets what he wants.’ The “t” seemed to stick her tongue to her teeth for a moment, and her jaw set as she leaned back, eyes still staring towards the horizon, unblinking. ‘I can just imagine, the way she’ll bloat up. She’ll look even more like a cow.’
Finally, Jaime seemed to find his words, and he took a step forward. ‘I love her, Cersei.’
Cersei’s eyes glistened with tears she didn’t allow her brother to see. ‘...You loved me, once.’
The silence fell heavy between them, and Jaime was filled with an overwhelming wave of sadness. He stepped forward once again, reaching out a hand for her, but Cersei’s tongue snapped as quick as an adder’s bite.
‘Touch me, and I swear to the gods I’ll chop your other hand off myself.’
He had never heard such acid in his sister’s voice, at least not directed at him, and it took him aback. For a moment, he just stood there, painfully looking at the nape of his sister’s neck--all she would allow him.
When he spoke, his voice was nothing more than a whisper. ‘You know that I love you, Sister, and that I will always love you. I never meant to--’
‘No,’ Cersei snapped. ‘...But you did.’
Her lips were trembling, but she pressed them into a hard line to still them. She wouldn’t allow Jaime to see her shed a tear over him and that cow, not on her life. ‘...You’ll marry her, because of your honour.’ For a moment, her jaw hung agape, and she took a shaky breath. ‘She’s changed you.’
He couldn’t deny it. Brienne had changed him, and he liked to think it was for the better. He had spent his entire life being selfish, but Brienne was an honourable woman, and she had made him act in ways he never thought he would. She had made him see the truth when all he wanted to do was turn a blind eye.
He wanted to tell Cersei that everything would be all right, that nothing would change between them, but he knew that it already had. In the end, she spoke first, and there were tears in her voice.
‘Do you really love her?’
Jaime’s brows pressed inward, and he lowered his head, unable to answer. His silence told her all it needed to.
‘Leave me.’
‘Cersei...’
‘Leave!’
For a moment, the echoes of his sister’s voice hung in the air, somehow deafening to him. He had never heard her voice sound so cold and so heartbroken all at once. He knew there was nothing more he could say, nothing that he could do to change things, and so quietly, he turned from her and left the room.
He was only three or four steps from her bedchambers when the first crash hit, the second only a moment later. A goblet of wine sent flying across the room, papers scattering, paintings falling, fists pounding on desk, all of it a cacophony that boomed throughout the castle. Cersei’s shouts followed, her cries of anger, and loud, mourning screaming loud enough to break glass.
‘Bastard! You bastard! Bastard! Bastard!!’
The words seemed to follow him as he walked faster, closing his eyes. When he opened them, the lords on the wall were staring down at him.